Page 65 of A Countess Never Tells

The faint light of the banked fireplace seemed bright as day to her eyes, so accustomed to the inky darkness of the tunnel. She glanced about but no one was stirring. Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, Kitty hurried through the kitchen to the great staircase, remembering easily the way she’d come with Ash. When she reached the landing to the first floor, she picked up her pace. Only a few more moments, and she’d be with her beloved. She turned right, and there she was, at the dark paneled door that led to Ash’s bed chamber. At last, they would be together.

Kitty opened the door, hurried in and shut it behind her then whirled around. “Ash, Ash, I’m here.”

A candle on the bedside table revealed movement in the bed.

Ash lay naked, staring up at a blond-haired woman who sat astride him, riding him as though he were the best stallion in her stable. The woman turned her head and grinned at Kitty. “Do you want to join us, or do you prefer to watch?”

Horrified, Kitty couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of Ash in bed with another woman. The woman sped up her motions, and Ash cried out—just as he had with her when she’d been in his bed.

That sound broke the spell.

With her own anguished cry, Kitty whirled around, flung open the door, and pounded down the corridor, unable to erase the tableau that would certainly haunt her for the rest of her life.

Chapter 28

Light from the open curtain stabbed Ash’s eyes, and he threw a hand up to cover them. God, his head hurt, and his tongue felt thick, but that wasn’t unusual if he drank to excess. The trouble was he didn’t think he’d drunk much at all last night. He’d check the bottle when he got up. Damn Haxby for being generous. He needed to ring for Thompson to bring some ginger tea, his mother’s sovereign remedy for headaches. Cautiously, he levered himself up and—

There was a woman in his bed.

For one brief, wonderful moment, he thought it was Kitty. That hope died immediately, though. The hair was the wrong shade of blond and very coarse. She was also much slimmer than Kitty, who was deliciously curvaceous. The woman moved, and the aroma of oranges reached his nose. Oranges. His dream last night about Kitty in the orangery at home. Dear God, what had happened? What had he done?

He had no recollection of summoning Giselle from Madame Bontemps’s establishment, the Palace of Venus. Yet here was the woman, one of Madame’s most invigorating girls, who’d entertained him in his bed several times in the past, once The House of Pleasure had closed.

Of course, he’d eschewed all thought of such women weeks ago, after he’d sworn he’d be faithful to Kitty. Oh, God. Kitty. When she heard of this—and Ash was absolutely certain someone would make sure she did—it would be over. He’d vowed to her he’d forsake all other women, and he’d failed her. And himself. How could he have done such a thing? Had he drunk the whole damn bottle of brandy? Was he that foxed he’d let himself be ruled by his cock and betray the only woman he’d ever loved? Ever would love. How had this happened?

“Get up, Giselle.” Ash slid out of bed on the opposite side, holding his head in one hand and ringing the bell with the other.

Oh, hell and damnation. Fresh stains on the bed sheets. He hadn’t been too drunk to bed the woman then. Sickened that his vow to Kitty had been well and truly broken, he looked about for his banyan and found it at the foot of the bed, where he remembered putting it. Giselle hadn’t been here then. He had no recollection of her before just now. He pulled the banyan on and tied the belt. When had she arrived? He needed answers and quickly.

“Giselle. Get up now.”

The increase in volume made Ash wince, but it got the woman moving. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, the sheets falling away from her body revealing large, round breasts with extremely dark nipples. For once in his life, Ash paid the female form no attention at all.

“How did you get in here, Giselle? I do not remember ordering a companion from Mrs. Bontemps last night.”

“Don’t fret, m’lord. It weren’t no trouble a’tall once you got li’l Johnny flying at full mast. I hopped on, and you had your pleasure right enough.” The woman stretched and lay back on the mattress. “If you wants another go, I won’t say no if the price is right.” She patted the place where he’d just been lying. “I must say, you didn’t seem as up for it as usual. All dizzy or sleepy like, until you got to pumpin’ good, when the other woman came in. Then it didn’t take no time a’tall to give you your pleasure.”

Ash gave the bell a vicious pull. “What other woman?” God, he must have been full in his cups to have ordered two whores for the night when he didn’t want any. “Who else was here?”

Giselle shrugged, still rubbing the sheets in a playful way. “Dunno. She weren’t from Madam Bontemps’s, that’s for sure. The House o’ Pleasure’s been closed a month or more or I’d say she came from there. Much more refined than any o’ the girls at my house.” The woman wrinkled her nose. “I asked real polite like if she wanted to join us or just watch. The guvnor what arranged this said she’d be along and might want to play.”

“What guvnor? You mean it wasn’t me?” Alternating between elation that he hadn’t lost his mind and outrage that someone had played him for a dupe, Ash’s breath came so fast he began to see black spots. His stomach roiled so he had to speak between clenched teeth. “Who sent you here?”

“I dunno.” All business now, Giselle sat up in the bed, her playful pretense wiped clean. “Madam Bontemps said some bloke, some toff lord, had requested me ’cause I’d entertained you before an’ knew what you liked. The bloke was makin’ me a present to you, see. Said he’d see if you could resist a temptin’ armful when it got right down to it.”

Good God. Haxby had duped him. The betrayal, when he’d believed Haxby had finally come to at least tolerate him, cut sharp as a knife. He’d use this as the ultimate reason to forbid Kitty from marrying him. Of course, when her brother told Kitty what Ash had done, she would never want to marry him anyway. The fact that Haxby had tricked him into the infidelity would matter little. No matter what, Ash should’ve withstood Giselle. And he would have done so had Haxby not sent the damn brandy.

His head throbbing like a drummer setting a marching beat, Ash rubbed his temples. This whole affair made no sense whatsoever. Why would Haxby give them time alone together if he was about to spring this little trap?

“Beg pardon, my lord.” Thompson had entered quietly, a dark garment of some sort in his hands. He looked askance into the bed, but his gaze immediately returned to Ash. “You rang?”

“Yes. Set the footmen to filling the tub again. I am in desperate need of another bath.” The cloying smell of oranges wasn’t helping his roiling stomach. “Then show Miss Giselle the way out, please. Have cook prepare a breakfast she can take with her.” Ash frowned at the black cloth in Thompson’s hands. “What have you got there?”

“A black velvet cloak one of the stable boys found in the servant’s tunnel this morning, my lord. He was on his way to get his breakfast and came upon it just inside the tunnel near the kitchen. I knew it wasn’t something of yours, my lord, but I wondered if perhaps it belonged to—” He cut his gaze to Giselle, who’d slid off the bed—naked as a babe—and was unashamedly putting on her gown.

Giselle looked up from tying her skirt on and stuck out a finger, pointing at Thompson. “That’s the cloak the uvver girl was wearin’. The one what came in, stared at us havin’ our fun then turned tail shriekin’ and ran out.”

Ash had never before experienced the sensation of the ground collapsing beneath his feet, sucking him down into the darkest depths of hell. The few times he’d had women entertain him here, in his chamber, they’d come through the back gate and entered the house through the kitchen and up the servant’s stairs. There had been only one lady who’d ever known about the tunnel leading from the stables. Kitty.